


Just One Truth

by 198_4



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, Happens after episode 8 and before episode 9, MOTHERLAND, MotherlandFortSalem, One Shot, Raelle and Scylla, Raylla, Scylla is Spree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/198_4/pseuds/198_4
Summary: ‘I love you, Raelle,’ Scylla’s voice was singing very clearly in her head again. ‘and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.’OrRaelle wanders around Fort Salem after General Alder's speech
Relationships: Raelle Collar & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111





	Just One Truth

Her combat boots have never felt heavier as she threaded the corridors of Fort Salem.

Tally and Abigail headed back to Circe, not a word spoken during their unit’s little walk. The disgust was written all over her sisters’ faces, like they were about to retch after the lies of General Alder. Said with a demeanour full of confidence as if every word she pronounced was the truth.

Raelle though, had her head spinning and actually vomited on the grass. It wasn’t just Alder’s lies that kept spinning round her head. A graver thought torpedos her brain and was eating up every bit of sanity she has left.

Scylla. The girl she loves. The one who showed her there’s more to this life than being butcher’s meat in the battlefield.

Raelle has excused herself from Abigail and Tal, and her feet, even feeling weak as jelly, has brought her to the door of Scylla’s room. She pushed the door in, and at once inhaled the unique scent that greets her whenever Scylla opens this very door for her. Raelle’s unshed tears fell then, her lips trembling with unbearable pain tearing her to pieces.

She was very exhausted. All those sleepless nights of worry is weighing her down. She hasn’t gotten a decent sleep in like what? A week? The first night, she worries where Scylla was, the next day she was told Scylla was dead, then she literally saw Scylla, alive but chained in a holding cell.

She’d sobbed. She’d kissed her. She’d said she believed her. She’d told her she loved her.

Then everything just went black and the next thing Raelle knew, everyone was accusing her girlfriend of being the enemy. Amidst the Citydrop tasks, she didn’t have the luxury to process all the horrifying secrets that were dropped on her like a bomb.

Then a Spree has taken Scylla’s figure to deceive her, again. To be fair, Raelle knew it wasn’t her Scylla to begin with, she could see it in the Spree’s eyes. If eyes are windows to the soul, it was very clear to Raelle that those weren’t Scylla’s. It wasn’t _her_ Scylla.

But who even was her Scylla? Does she even have a Scylla to begin with?

Wiping her cheeks, she moved towards the messy study table to her left. Among the pile of books, the gift box she gave Scyl laid. It was still opened, as if Scyl has been too excited to wear it that she missed to close the box. Vividly, Raelle could still recall how proudly Scylla wore it at the wedding.

‘No matter what happens, I love you.’

The words are cutting her deeper and deeper by the hour. Because by the hour, she hopes, rather desperately, that they were true.

They were witches, but Raelle had never felt as magical as the moment Scylla said those words. It was paradise to hear her say them as they danced. She felt invincible, like nothing could ever hurt her anymore.

But now the words just causes her chest to constrict and bleed. She’d tried fixing it. Several times even, uttering the proverbs she use to fix others, but her chest just wouldn’t heal.

Feeling like her knees would give up, Raelle slumped on Scylla’s chair and held her hand out to the desk. As she hovers her fingers, they bumped onto a small cold metal causing her brows to crease. The metal was a lighter and it almost struck her dead within. Everyone says the enemy is Scylla’s identity, but Raelle had always left a thread of doubt to it, picturing the girl she loves as the faultless person she knew.

Scylla was Raelle’s rock. But apparently a fabricated one, a mere collection of dirt that turns to ash at the littlest spark of fire.

Swallowing her sobs and filling her lungs with air, Raelle rummaged into the side drawer. Unsurprisingly, she found two more lighters in it, and she just lost it. Raelle screamed the fury in her throat, pushing away the things scattered on the desk until a lone paper struck her attention. Her name was written on its edge, enclosed in curves that resembled a heart. The rest of the page were seed notes and witch terms, probably those Scylla used to cooked up the S that hasn’t shown itself on her palm since that one night.

Even as her chest felt tight, she tried to focus.

‘Please don’t believe _everything_ they tell you,’ said Scylla with utmost sincerity in those beautiful blue eyes.

Raelle held her sobs as her fingers felt more of her own name on the scattered pieces of paper. She could feel Scylla’s soft hands write it. She could see the smile on her lips as she drew a heart on the name.

Raelle blinked, awestruck. The hope she’d lost was beginning to drip back in her.

Could it be that even with Scylla’s association with the Spree, the moments her and Raelle shared together was genuine? Would that even make sense?

‘I love you, Raelle,’ Scylla’s voice was singing very clearly in her head again. ‘and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt _you_.’

Could Scylla be a Spree who could possibly hurt anyone else but Raelle? Would that explain why Scylla didn’t surrender her to the enemy just like Tally said?

Closing all drawers, Raelle gathered everything she’d scattered and stacked them neatly back in place, stashing the page in her pocket before rising.

There’s only one way to draw a line between what’s true and what’s a lie.

She needs Scylla to answer her questions.

‘No matter what happens, I love you.’

Raelle stalked back to the door. She locked it on her way out and threaded the corridors once again, thinking that if witches could wish for anything, she’d ask for one. She’d ask that of all the chaos and lies, Scylla’s words of love would at least be true.

If they weren’t, Raelle doesn’t know if she’ll still have a heart left to break.


End file.
